


Leave Love Bleeding in My Hands

by trajektoria



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Banter, Biotics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scott and Reyes are a power couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-05 10:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trajektoria/pseuds/trajektoria
Summary: A fun road trip through Kadara’s wilderness is cut short by an ambush. Scott and Reyes throw themselves into the fray, but things go from bad to worse when one of them gets seriously injured. Will help arrive in time or will their predicament end in tears?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buggirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buggirl/gifts).



> Big thanks to [captainjennhart](http://captainjennhart.tumblr.com/) who is the best beta ever. You rock! <3
> 
> This fic is a holiday gift to [bugsieplusone](http://bugsieplusone.tumblr.com/). I hope you'll like it!  
> The story is finished and everything will be posted by the end of January.

“Scott, you know that I’m not a religious man, but being with you has almost made me believe in God,” said Reyes out of the blue.

Scott blinked, not sure how to react to such a confession.

“Um, great? Thanks?” The Pathfinder took his eyes off the road for a second and risked a glance at the man riding shotgun. “Any particular reason for that?”

“Yes. I believe He’s the only one who can protect me from your driving.”

Scott burst out laughing and purposefully made the car’s engine rev miserably as he took a sharp turn between two small lakes – deep puddles, really. They drove in the Nomad through the badlands of Kadara, returning to the Port from the Draullir cave, where they’d just conducted an unofficial and unexpected inspection of sorts of the Collective’s main base, with Scott, a known ally of the Charlatan, acting on the boss’ behalf and Reyes being just his plus one, no one else, obviously.

A lot had changed on the planet in the few months since Sloane’s untimely demise. The Collective ran like clockwork, mainly focusing their resources, not on skirmishes with the Outcasts as they used to, but on helping people in the slums and in the Outpost. Reyes kept his word and the Initiative settlement flourished, unbothered by raiders, under the Charlatan’s special protection. Of course, Scott wasn’t naive enough to think that all of the Collective had had... well, a collective change of heart and suddenly turned to charity and pacifism. Smuggling and moonshining still abounded, as well as many other shady enterprises, but as long as no innocents were hurt in the process, Scott turned a blind eye to minor illegal activities. No sense in waging a holy war, especially since Reyes had the situation under control. Besides, having resourceful friends in low places had proven useful on many occasions.

All in all, things on Kadara had improved significantly, not only thanks to the environment-restoring monolith that made the unfiltered water drinkable again, but also due to the change in management.

And as strange and absurd as it seemed, Scott had really grown fond of this place – the mountains, weird fauna and flora, even Kadara Port itself with the constant buzz of life and pulsing of neon lights. Hell, he really did feel like the king of Kadara. Or at least the king’s consort, which was just as good in his book.

“Where’d your sense of adventure go?” asked Scott, shaking his head. Just to tease his lover, he flipped the switch and changed the drive of the Nomad to six wheels, dashing at full speed along the almost vertical side of a stony hill.

“Nowhere. There is plenty left, thank you, but I lack your suicidal tendencies,” Reyes shot back, clenching his fist nervously.

Scott smirked and cast him a brief glance. He knew that Reyes meant it only half-heartedly and his constant complaining about the way he handled the car was similar to Scott’s groans at his lover’s cheesy puns. Just another way of flirting. Somehow they could never get enough of that.

“Weren’t you a pilot?” asked Scott, letting the Nomad’s tires screech against the metal platforms haphazardly strewn across the larger lakes in their way, remnants of a time when stepping directly into acidic water could cost you your skin and bones. “In the Milky Way and before all this Uprising mess? You surely had plenty of close calls back then.”

“I was a pilot, yes, but I only flew low and slow,” he deadpanned.

“Oh yeah, sure. Somehow I don’t believe you.”

“That’s because I’m lying.”

Scott laughed, hearing the echo of a conversation they’d had long ago.

“Nah, you? Lying? Never! You’re a model citizen of honesty, safety and sensibility.”

Reyes grinned with so much boyish charm that it took all Scott’s willpower not to pull over right that moment, straddle his lover and kiss him senseless.

“What can I say, I’m a man of many virtues.”

“Reyes Vidal, patron saint of crooks, smugglers and cheats.”

“Scott, I am wounded. Or flattered. Not sure yet which.”

“I really have the worst taste in men.” The Pathfinder rolled his eyes with amusement. “Remind me what I see in you?”

“My debonair personality and excellent sense of humor?” proposed Reyes cheekily. “My heavenly body? And all the rest?”

“Damn, you got me.”

The Charlatan chuckled. There was no other sound in the whole wide world that Scott loved to hear more. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the look Reyes gave him and he almost melted right into his seat. It was incredible to think that it had taken him six hundred years of cryostasis and a trip to another galaxy to find the man of his dreams. Who just happened to run a criminal empire and rule a planet. Fate works in mysterious ways.

For a moment they drove in comfortable silence. Even though speaking with Reyes was so easy that Scott felt he could tell him anything, from the lamest joke to the deepest existential musings, the lack of words between them didn’t feel wrong or weird. Silence brought a sense of connection, of profound understanding and acceptance. Still, he smiled when the Charlatan turned to him and opened his mouth again.

“Have I told you about that time when I had to transport–”

An earth-shattering explosion drowned out his words.  A flash of searing, orange light blinded Scott. He felt his stomach rush to his throat when an incredible force launched the Nomad into the air and flipped it over before the vehicle landed hard on the ground, accompanied by the hiss of punctured tires. Puffs of vile black smoke erupted from the bent hood, obscuring the view.

Scott blinked a few times, trying to regain his bearings. He was stunned, confused, and a little sore from banging against the steering wheel, despite wearing armor that took the brunt of the impact. He had no idea what had just happened. Befuddled, he moved his heavy head and tried to focus his gaze on Reyes. It took him a blink or two for the image to become sharp enough to let him actually see his lover. Just as shaken, but apparently unharmed as well.

“ _Pathfinder. You have not sustained any lasting injuries. However, the explosion destroyed the Nomad’s engine and the vehicle is not roadworthy at the moment,_ ” SAM informed them. 

“Scott, you have truly outdone yourself this time. Congratulations are in order. However, when you promised that I’d have a blast, that’s not what I had in mind.”

Sarcasm. Good. It meant that Reyes was truly fine.

“What the hell happened?” he asked no one in particular, thinking aloud.

A hail of missiles that suddenly hit the, thankfully bulletproof, windshield of the Nomad was an answer in itself to Scott’s question. And if he still had any doubts, the scream that followed erased them all.

“Kill the Pathfinder!”

“Ambush? Someone really hates you, Scott,” said Reyes, more angry than surprised. The crease on his forehead spoke volumes about barely contained rage that someone dared to lift a finger against his lover. “And the Charlatan is not amused.”

“They never learn, do they?” Scott sighed, shaking his head. “Stay here, I’m going to take care of them.”

“You must be joking,” came the offended reply. Reyes was already holding an assault rifle in his hands.  The sound of the gun being cocked sounded ominously in the wrecked interior of the Nomad.

Okay, if Scott said that he wasn’t a little turned on by that, he would be a bigger liar than the Charlatan himself.

“Together then?”

“Always. Let’s kick their asses.”

And here Scott thought he couldn’t possibly love this man any more than he already did. Life was full of surprises.

They exchanged telling smiles, adrenaline coursing through their veins.

“Three… two… one!”

At the same moment they both flung open the doors and jumped out of the vehicle. An upgrade that had been recently installed in the Nomad – bless you, Gil – automatically pulled up the shields around the car every time someone opened the door with enough force, so they were safe for now. Scott and Reyes hid behind the doors and unanimously decided to take care of the assailants behind their backs first. Three angara crouching behind boulders shot at them without pause.

“Roekaar,” said Reyes. He aimed and put a bullet right between the eyes of one of the attackers. No hesitation and no mercy, just skill and cold precision. The alien slumped to the ground like a fallen tree. “No wonder they want to kill you so badly.”

Scott didn’t reply. His concentration was absolute, his thoughts calm despite the heat of the battle. Hours upon hours of biotic training had prepped him for that. Powerful force flowed through him like a gentle stream. He released a ball of purple energy which collided with the angara, throwing them into the air like helpless ragdolls. The biotic lance he had formed pierced right through them, not giving them a chance. Although one of them was already dead even before the lance hit him, thanks to the Charlatan’s impeccable shooting.

“Three down,” said Reyes, almost cheerfully. He turned around and scanned the terrain in front of them. Lots of nooks and crannies on Kadara to hide and shoot from. “Five… no, six more to go.”  

The Nomad’s shields flickered and disappeared with a soft _whush_. The Roekaar seemed to have been waiting for that because their attacks intensified, becoming more vicious. Even the Nomad’s reinforced body couldn’t withstand such barrage for long.

Scott considered leaving the vehicle and moving to the spot previously occupied by the deceased angaran, but quickly decided against it. Too dangerous; they would be exposed while in transition. The Nomad gave them their best chance to leave this predicament in one piece.

Reyes must have concluded the same thing because he didn’t budge even a little. Look of determination on his face, he waited for an opening in the assault to take the shooters down. Scott could help a little with that. Putting his hand over his head, he created a biotic barrier, extending the dome over the whole Nomad. Granted, his defensive powers had never been as good as his offensive ones, but the barrier should hold long enough to give them the advantage they needed. He could swear he heard angry Roekaar growls from the distance, although that might have been just his tired mind playing tricks on him. Symptoms of biotic exhaustion weren’t pleasant and the headache that came with them was a real bitch. Thankfully, he was still far from even nearing that state.

“Good thinking, Scott.” Reyes smiled. One shot and another angara fell down. _Bang_ – his companion shared his lot.

 “Yeah, I am pretty awesome, am I not?” He pulled his free hand upwards sharply, releasing a biotic wave that knocked down an assailant who was trying to sneak up on them from the side. Reyes used a bullet to make sure that she wouldn’t get up again.

“Of course you are. I don’t settle for mediocrity.”

“You should have picked a better planet to rule over, then.”

Reyes laughed, which sounded rather strange accompanied by another shot.

“Kadara is not that bad. It has its charm.”

“Yeah, and tons of people who want to murder you at every corner…”

“Well, at least you’re never bored here.”

“Agreed.”

Wanting to end this encounter quickly, Scott concentrated and threw a deadly singularity at the remaining Roekaar. They shot in the air helplessly, caught in a bubble of zero-g. Reyes quickly put a permanent end to them.  

The newfound silence buzzed eerily in Scott’s ears. He held his breath, trying to hear a footfall or maybe the sound of a gun being reloaded, and was certain that Reyes did the same. But there was nothing, nothing but the wind carrying roars of a faraway rylkor.

“Huh. That’s it then?” Scott said, looking around.

“Seems so.”

They exchanged glances and smiled. They’d done good. Carefully, Reyes holstered his weapon and Scott, just as cautiously, let the barrier dissipate, although ready to pull it up at once if needed. But nothing happened. It seemed that they really had dealt with the problem successfully.

“Nice,” said Scott, self-satisfied, and stood up. Reyes followed, stretching his arms and massaging his neck. As nice as it would be to keep staring at him, Scott decided that it was more prudent to assess the damage the Nomad had sustained.

The Pathfinder walked to the front of the car. SAM’s preliminary report seemed fairly accurate. The hood was mangled, the engine and all the mechanical entrails in complete shambles, while things that definitely shouldn’t be producing smoke fumed like tiny chimneys. Tragic, automotive still life.  

Staring at the burning wreckage, Scott felt a pang of hurt in his chest. Anger too. Accidents happened and it was hard to maintain the vehicle in pristine condition while exploring foreign planets... and okay, maybe he sometimes did drive a tad irresponsibly... but the Nomad had never been hit this hard before.

Gil would definitely give him hell later for mistreating his baby.

Scott sighed and pressed a few buttons on his omni-tool to contact the Tempest.

“Kallo, Suvi, we need a ride home.”

“No problem, Ryder, I hear the local services have discounts for the Charlatan’s sympathizers. Should I call you a cab?” The salarian’s words were spoken quickly, which was characteristic for his race, but still cheery. Scott heard Suvi giggling in the background.

“Ha ha. Very funny, I think I tore something from all this laughing.” Scott rolled his eyes. “Seriously though, the Nomad is FUBAR and we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere. Pick us up. I’m sending you the coordinates.”

“Sure, Ryder. Meet you in ten.”

“The Nomad is WHAT?!” Gil’s voice broke in. Scott winced and promptly ended the call.

“It looks as if your mechanic might commit pathfindercide today,” observed Reyes with amusement.

Scott gave him a heavy look. “Your constant support and concern for my wellbeing are touching.”

Reyes chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Since we’re stuck here until your ship comes, we might as well scout the area and locate the Roekaar’s camp. Maybe we can find some useful intel there.”

Scott shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

The camp wasn’t exactly hidden. Clearly a temporary locale on the side of the road a little further on, it contained only a handful of tents and a few containers with various supplies, mainly food and weapons. Still, Reyes seemed satisfied with the find.

“Shame for it all to go to waste,” he said, firing up his omni-tool.

“What are you–“ Scott started, but then he understood. “You’re sending your guys to pick the stuff up?”

“The Collective is very good at collecting,” he replied, unfazed. “Okay, done. I marked the spot; they will come here later and do their magic.” Reyes lifted his gaze back at Scott, smiling. But his smile abruptly disappeared, turning into a mask of horror.

Before Scott could ask what was wrong, the man was crashing into him, pushing him away. Unbalanced and confused, he felt as if time had slowed to a crawl.

The red dot, previously on him, of which he’d been unaware until now, was now on Reyes. A loud bang cut through the air. A spray of blood hit his N7 armor. Reyes fell to his knees, hand pressed to his side. The color of escaping life painted his shirt red.


	2. Chapter 2

Scott watched the scene unfold, completely shell-shocked. The past mixed with the present, reminding him of the image of Sloane Kelly in that cave so long ago. She too knelt on the ground like that as the life seeped out of her. Back then Reyes was proud, triumphant, the victor in the game of Kadara’s throne. And now he was here, shot and bleeding out.

Only a second had passed, but for Scott it felt as if two eternities had rolled over him, destroying him in their merciless gears, tearing him to dust. But his instincts kicked in. He leapt to Reyes and held him up before the man collapsed to the ground, at the same time spreading a biotic shield around them. Just in time, as another bullet followed, bent on finishing the job.

A sniper. Had he been waiting for them to reach the camp? Was that all a part of the trap?

Scott didn’t care. There was only one thing on his mind. One man.

“Reyes! Reyes, hold on!”

The Charlatan groaned through clenched teeth, leaning against Scott. The most important thing was to get him to safety _now_.

With the help of his biotic powers, Scott lifted Reyes to his feet and ran with him, pretty much dragging him along, behind a large container that should shield them from the sniper, at least temporarily. There, Scott made Reyes sit down with his back against the metal wall.

“Damn… That was my favorite shirt,” Reyes tried to joke, but his voice was strained and laced with pain.

Scott didn’t reply. He tore the bloodied fabric further to reveal a large bullet wound in his lover’s torso. Even though he wasn’t a medic, it didn’t look good. Reyes was losing too much blood.

Scott reached to the small satchel attached to his belt. His fingers felt numb and slick with blood, but after fumbling inside for a while he finally managed to fish out a small package of medi-gel. Not an easy task when you only have one free hand, the other keeping up the biotic shield.

“Don’t speak,” Scott ordered fervently and opened the blood-smeared package with his teeth, feeling the tangy, metallic taste on his tongue. All he wanted was to howl in despair, but years of training kept him relatively in check. Still, his hand shook when he applied the gel generously on the injury. It would do little more than sterilize the gaping wound and dull the pain. A temporary measure, but he couldn’t do anything more than that right now.

The translucent gel became pinkish as it mixed with blood, still flowing at an alarming rate. Reyes hissed, closing his eyes briefly.

“You’re a… shitty nurse… Scott.”

“Don’t be such a baby.” He smiled, but the mirth didn’t reach his eyes, oceans of worry. “We had worse after a whole night at Umi’s, yeah? Remember that krogan drink? Whew, I think it melted my kidneys.”

Reyes chuckled, a ghost of a laughter. His tawny skin was pale and sickly, his golden eyes unfocused, filled with pain.

Cold hands of panic started to clench around Scott’s throat. He squeezed Reyes’ hand, wanting to offer some comfort.

“SAM, call the Tempest!” he said, barely stopping himself from shouting. He couldn’t even use his omni-tool with both his hands busy. The feeling of helplessness was choking him.

“ _Pathfinder. I’m patching you through._ ”

“Ah, Ryder,” said Kallo after a second or two. “Want that cab–?”

“Reyes has been shot,” he interrupted sharply. “He needs medical attention.”

A heavy pause. Scott could almost see how the salarian blinked in surprise and exchanged glances with Suvi.

“Understood.” There was no trace of playfulness left in his voice. “We’ll be there shortly. I’ll let Dr. T’Perro know, she’ll prepare the med bay.”

The moment Kallo hung up, Scott felt a bullet hit his biotic shield. He jumped up, startled. A sniper. He had completely forgotten. A faceless silhouette at the top of the hill that had put the person Scott loved in danger.

Hate wasn’t strong enough to describe the emotions swirling inside Scott’s heart. Blinding rage, desperate fury, the burning desire to kill and maim, to disintegrate the attacker and erase him from existence forever.

His biotic powers weren’t a calm stream anymore, from which he could scoop droplets to use. No, they were a hurricane, a tornado, a supernova all rolled into one, the power to extinguish stars and bend black holes to his will.

“ _Pathfinder. You need to calm down. Your body might not withstand prolonged strain of this kind_.”

“I don’t care, SAM.” The voice sounded foreign in his ears, the bones seemed to quiver inside his flesh, but he hardly paid attention. It was time to make that angara pay.

Scott gathered what seemed to be a fraction of the power at his disposal and charged at the sniper. Reality bent around him as he cut the distance almost to the top of the hill in a matter of seconds. It should have been impossible – biotic charge worked over relatively short distances, a matter of yards rather than miles. The full potential unleashed offered frightening power. Scott charged up the hill, making it seem effortless.

There he was, the sniper. The angara, surprised, terrified, frozen in place. Scott levitated right in front of him like an angel of death surrounded by a purple biotic field.

Extending his hand, Scott tore the sniper rifle from the angara’s numb fingers. One burst of energy and the weapon was no more than distorted metal dust floating in a small gravitational field. Scott released them, letting them fall like a silvery snow.

That didn’t bring Scott the satisfaction he craved. Not yet. Blood for blood. He needed the angara to suffer.

To die.

“ _Pathfinder…_ ”

Scott didn’t listen. With a scream that came from his very core, he punched the ground in front of the sniper. The crushing biotic force ripped out patches of ground, rocks and plants, sending them flying high into the air. It did the same to the sniper, blowing him away without mercy, a sad, crumpled shell of a body that was broken in far too many places to resemble his original shape. When the angara fell a dozen feet away, charred and mangled, he barely resembled a creature that had been alive once. Scott didn’t check if the angara had survived. There was no need.

Slowly, Scott descended to the ground, the godlike power leaving him with every second, running away like water from a sieve. What was left was pain. His muscles ached, his bones felt foreign in his body, and his head pounded, suddenly weighing ten tons. Still, he jogged back to Reyes without stumbling, as fast as he could, the concern for his lover the fuel that kept him going.

The Charlatan looked even worse than before, but he was conscious. He stared at Scott with his eyes wide open. Whether it was in shock, in fear or maybe in awe, he couldn’t tell.

“Remind me… not to… piss you… off,” said Reyes, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re always pissing me off.” Scott’s voice cracked. He sat down in front of Reyes, his eyes roaming over his body with desperation. The medi-gel didn’t seem to be helping much. And killing the sniper hadn’t brought the relief or sense of accomplishment Scott craved. If anything, it just made him feel even more hopeless. “Hang on, the Tempest will be here in a minute,” he said, not sure if wanting to reassure Reyes or himself. “Everything will be fine.”

One couldn’t lie to a liar, though. Reyes must have read the worry on Scott’s face and drawn his own conclusions.

“SAM... what are my... chances?”

Before Scott could tell SAM to shut up, the AI responded.

“ _Your chances of survival are estimated at sixty-nine percent. However, they are dropping rapidly._ ”

“Sixty-nine?” Reyes let out a breathless chuckle. “What a... way to go.”

Even Scott could tell that the humor was forced. Maybe they both pretended, tried to joke as always to spare the other. The thought was heartbreaking.

 “You’re not going anywhere,” he said adamantly. “If you think you can get rid of me so easily, you’re wrong.”

“Always… stubborn.” Reyes’ smile was pale and his gaze more and more unfocused. Scott felt chills like he had never felt before, even in the midst of Voeld.

“Oh, you know me,” he feigned nonchalance. “I don’t accept failure. Hey, I even managed to sway a criminal overlord my way, yeah? One day I might even turn you into someone decent.”

 “You wouldn’t... want me... decent.”

Silence stretched between them as they looked at one another. Maybe there were some things that didn’t need to be said. Still, Scott had a feeling that Reyes was gathering the strength to say something more, which was getting harder and harder.

“I’m… so glad…to have met… you…” His voice trailed off, barely audible at the end. His eyelids began to drop, just as did his head.

“Hey! Hey, Reyes, stay with me!” Scott put his hands on the man’s cheeks, barely stopping himself from shaking him, as if that could help. Reyes’ eyes remained closed. “Reyes!”

“ _Pathfinder. Mr. Vidal is unconscious but alive._

“Good. That’s good. Oh God…” Scott had to take a few deep breaths or else a panic attack would completely swallow the last shreds of self-control he had.

“ _However, his vitals are weak. Fifty-five percent chance of survi–_ ”

“Shut up, SAM!” His voice broke. “Just… shut up. Where the hell is the Tempest?”

As if on cue, he heard the characteristic hum of the Tempest’s engines coming from the distance. He looked in the direction of the noise and noticed a small, black dot on the horizon growing rapidly. Never before was he so happy to see his ship. A glimmer of hope ignited Scott’s heart, warming him up.

His eyes kept flicking from Reyes’ sickly pale and deceptively peaceful face to the familiar shape of the Tempest approaching. It couldn’t come too soon.

Despite the hurry, Kallo and Suvi managed to maneuver skillfully among the hills and set the ship down without problems. Even before the Tempest had touched down properly, the hangar door opened. Liam and Cora, their weapons prepared, jumped out headlong, their gait swift but careful. Trained soldiers, making sure that nothing would spring out at them and endanger the mission.

“Here!” shouted Scott at the top of his lungs. It sounded desperate, just as he felt.

Liam and Cora looked in his direction and rushed to him immediately. Right at their heels was Lexi, pushing the antigravitational stretcher. At both her sides ran Jaal and Dracks, for additional firepower.

“Is he…?” asked Liam, stopping dead in his tracks at the Pathfinder’s side.

“No!” snapped Scott, glaring daggers at him. Before he completely lost his head, Lexi came to the scene and gently but firmly pushed him away, having given him a quick onceover.

“Tell me what happened,” she ordered Scott, kneeling right in front of Reyes. She checked the wound and whipped out her omni-tool, doing her own careful scans. Her face was devoid of any emotion as she concentrated fully on her job, so Scott couldn’t really guess her prognosis. Although if SAM was right, and he usually was…

Rubbing his temple unconsciously, Scott recounted the events that lead to the shooting, how he and Reyes were ambushed by the Roekaar and how the sniper attacked them when they were investigating the camp. Lexi barely listened to him. It occurred to Scott that she’d asked him to talk more for his benefit than hers. She was a doctor, she didn’t care about contextual details. It was nothing more than a psychological trick to make him feel a little less useless. Well, it didn’t help. He still felt miserable, seeing Reyes’ limp body.

Cora, on the other hand, listened intently.

“A sniper? Where are they, can they still attack us?” she asked, her eyes focusing on the tops of the hills and other high places where someone could be lying in wait.

“No.” A blunt, curt response. She must have heard the bloodlust in his tone because she didn’t ask him to elaborate. She just looked at him, biting her lip.

 “Put him on the stretcher,” Lexi said to Drack and Jaal. Scott stood up too, but the asari stopped him by putting her hand on his shoulder. “You’re exhausted, you might drop him.”

Scott couldn’t argue with that, so he gave up without a fight. He couldn’t risk Reyes’ health further. Jaal and Drack seemed to be doing just fine. The krogan especially was uncharacteristically gentle, lying Reyes down on the stretcher delicately, as if the man was a precious porcelain figurine that could be easily broken.

He was, oh God, he was.

Scott took a shaky breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was standing on the edge of a dark precipice, just moments from diving head first into the cold, endless chasm of no return. It was worse than when his dad died. That happened… behind the scenes. Scott was unconscious back then, he didn’t have to witness the desperate struggle to save his life. If he had, he wouldn’t have been able to handle it, of that he was sure.

And now Reyes…

No, he wouldn’t think like that, he wouldn’t accept that possibility, he wouldn’t even entertain the thought. _No_.

He power-walked after Lexi inside the ship, not looking at anything but the stretcher. He wasn’t sure how he even still had strength to move. Sheer willpower kept him going, prompting him to move his limbs like a puppeteer did with a worn-out doll on the verge of falling apart.

The crew kept their distance. They either returned to their duties, or at least pretended to, or remained in the corridor, shuffling awkwardly, not sure what to do or say.

Scott marched into the med bay, no hesitation. But Lexi turned to him at once, as soon as he walked through the door.

“Scott, leave.”

“No.”

 Lexi, who was usually so patient and understanding, was only seconds away from losing it.

“Leave, I need to take care of him.”

“No,” he repeated.

That was too much for the doctor.

“Get the hell out, Scott!” she yelled, pointing to the door.

“No!” He didn’t budge. “This is my ship, I’m the Pathfi–”

“You are a spoiled child and either you leave and let me do my job or he _dies_!”

Scott opened his mouth but closed it promptly. He was stunned, he didn’t know what to say. But he felt she was right. Casting one final glance at Reyes – pale, unconscious, _dying_ – Scott turned on his heel without a word, leaving the med bay like a sleepwalker. He let the doors close and seal themselves behind him.  Reyes’ fate lay entirely in Lexi’s hands.

Scott’s legs gave way under him. Everything that had happened, physical, mental and biotic exhaustion, had taken their toll on him and the debt needed payment. Scott’s back hit the wall and he slid down it, a pathetic, boneless mass on the ground.  A part of him wanted to cry, let the waves of sobs rack his body, destroy him from within, but he felt too numb for that. A shell of a man, a husk. As if instead of a heart he had a black hole in his chest slowly consuming everything. Everything but the image of Reyes, bleeding and hurt, who took a bullet for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott – unmoving, on the floor and keeping his vigil in front of the med bay – barely paid attention to what was happening around him. The noises and fragments of conversations that reached his ears, sounding as if they came from deep within a well, told him that the crew had managed to haul the Nomad aboard the Tempest.

“Ryder, we’re ready for takeoff.” He heard Kallo addressing him through the coms. Yes, a captain should now give a new destination to travel to and an order to proceed, right? But Scott’s mind was blank. “Ryder? Where do you want us to go?”

Scott stared at his gloves. Reyes’ blood had mostly dried by now but the metallic smell was still fresh, seemingly surrounding him.

“ _Take us into orbit_ ,” SAM answered for him.

A moment of hesitation on the bridge, but then, “Understood.”

The Tempest’s engines whirred louder and the ship moved upward.

Time lost its significance. Seconds, minutes, how could they matter if Scott’s whole world had shrunk down to these reddish-brown stains on his armor?

Seasons came and went until he heard a voice again, right at his side.

“Hey, Scott...” 

Scott lifted his lifeless gaze from the gloves. Liam. He said nothing to greet his friend, just stared without really seeing anything.

 “Um... I thought that... well, I was about to clean my armor and I thought that I could clean yours as well. If you want, of course.” Liam’s hands moved in a non-committal way, trying to remain casual, but tension rolled off his body in waves. His eyes kept flicking to the stains on Scott’s N7 suit. Scott looked back at them as well. It was as if he couldn’t see anything else, as if his whole world smelled of metal and had turned the color of rust.

“ _Thank you, Liam. The Pathfinder appreciates that_ ,” said SAM again when the silence stretched into an uncomfortable realm. All the clasps unclenched automatically and pieces of armor simply fell to the floor, peeling off him like chunks of a chrysalis ready to expose the beautiful creature within. Except this time there was nothing there, only emptiness and hollowness.

Liam gathered all the pieces and scurried away into his room.    

Without the armor, only in his plain black lycra suit, Scott felt naked, exposed. And he could still feel the blood on his hands, as if it had burnt through the plastic like an acid and become ingrained forever into his skin. He pressed his thighs to his chest and hugged himself. His emotions were fried, but his body didn’t go easy on him either. He felt nauseous, cold, and exhausted beyond belief, with tons of little aches spreading throughout his muscles and joints, as if every cell in his body was aflame with pain. Droplets of blood dripped from his nostrils and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

“ _Pathfinder. I strongly recommend rest. Sitting here won’t help Reyes Vidal in any capacity_.”

“No, SAM. Not until I know that he’s okay,” he said, not recognizing his own voice. It sounded so defeated, so broken. As if the ’ _if_ he’s okay’ was strongly implied here and Scott hated himself for showing that kind of doubt. If something truly happened to Reyes... He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

 As he sat there helplessly, his crew started approaching him awkwardly one by one, offering their support, one way or the other. Cora bestowed upon him a piece of asari wisdom about having hope despite all adversities. Scott didn’t react, so she soon went away. Suvi brought him a mug of hot tea she bought on Earth, but Scott just shook his head. He wouldn’t be able to swallow anything. Keeping himself from screaming was hard enough. Peebee offered Poc to keep him company, Jaal proposed a heartfelt hug, Vetra promised to get them more popcorn soon, Drack recited a story about a human he once knew who took ten bullets to the chest and was totally fine, and Gil assured him that the Nomad would be fully repaired in a couple of days. Scott understood subconsciously that they were all worried about him and cared enough to want to help. Even if not all of them fully accepted his relationship with Reyes, as the man was who he was, they still didn’t want to see either of them suffer. Part of him appreciated it. But he couldn’t respond to that kindness, not when he was this empty shell, with only the most desperate thoughts bouncing around his head and echoing terribly in the vastness of his guilt.

Reyes took a bullet for him and it was driving him insane.  

After God knew how long, the door to the med bay opened. Scott felt a surge of adrenaline and he was on his feet even before Lexi managed to step over the threshold. If she was surprised to see him there, she didn’t show it. Her face was expressionless.

“How is he?” he asked, desperation painfully obvious in his voice.

“He’s fine, Scott,” she said, smiling at last. She looked tired, but it was the kind of tiredness that came from fulfilling your duties, the good kind. “I managed to stop the bleeding and repair the damage the shot caused. Give him a week and he’ll be as good as new.”

Relief almost made Scott pass out. His eyes watered and his voice nearly broke as he thanked her.

“I was just doing my job.” Her smile twisted into an expression that looked a lot like shame. “I’m sorry that I shouted at you. I lost control over myself and behaved in an unprofessional way. I apologize. Sincerely.”

Scott shook his head. “It’s all right. I’m sorry too. I... wasn’t thinking straight.”

She nodded, showing him that she understood.

“Can I see him now?”

Lexi hesitated.

“He’s asleep and will be for the next few hours until the drugs wear off. You should rest, Scott, use that time to get some sleep. You look at the end of your tether, you need a nap,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. It was a caring gesture, more between friends than a doctor and a patient. “Your cabin is just a few feet away. I can notify and wake you up when he’s ready to see you.”

“ _I agree with Dr. T’Perro, Pathfinder. You need to rest._ ”

But that was out of the question.

“No. I need to see him.” There was an air of finality in his voice. “I need to stay with him.”

Lexi watched him for a moment, hints of frustration, pity and understanding visible on her face in equal measure. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose, as if she was already regretting the things she was about to say.

“The second bed in the med bay is vacant. You can go inside and see Mr. Vidal if you promise me to take a nap there. And don’t disturb him until he wakes up. Is that okay?”

Scott gave her a pale smile, his first one since coming back to the Tempest.

“Thank you, Lexi.”

 He didn’t wait for her reply. Simply squeezed right past her and entered the med bay.

Even on his best days, he didn’t like coming here. It had nothing to do with Lexi, who was a competent doctor and a close friend, with whom he could talk in confidence about almost everything and always get sound advice in return. He simply didn’t like the sterile white, the smell of chemicals and occasional hum and beeping of various machines. It reminded him far too much of the hospitals on the Citadel in which his mother spent so much time, and also of the hospital on the Nexus where his sister was still recuperating. Hospitals were places of loss and soul-crushing pain. This time was no different and his heart seemed to jump into his throat as he entered the room, subconsciously bracing himself for the worst despite Lexi’s assurance that everything had ended well.  

Reyes was there, breathing, living. Scott had to see it for himself to believe and let go of his anxieties.  Reyes slept, his chest wrapped up in bandages, covered with a sheet up to his ribs. His skin was still pale, but he seemed free of pain probably thanks to all the drugs. Whatever he was dreaming about, Scott hoped it was something good.

He swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. His legs felt like jelly, threatening to make him topple to the ground. All Scott wanted was to perch on Reyes’ bed, kiss him and apologize. Touch him, feel the warmth of his body, find the pulse on his neck. He was afraid to do all that though. What if he hurt him accidentally? Lexi told him to stay away. And as hard as that was, Scott had to obey. For Reyes’ sake. He had done enough damage for one day.

Scott moved to the other bed and lay down, keeping his eyes fixed on his lover. No matter the tiredness and all the pain and strain his battered body had endured, he had to stay vigilant, he had to wait wide awake. Make sure that his face would be the first thing Reyes saw as he woke up and let him hear his apology for everything that had happened. Even if that meant spending hours fighting exhaustion.

“ _Pathfinder. I urge you to obey Dr. T’Perro’s suggestion and go to sleep. Your body is on the brink of shutting down. Denying yourself rest might have long-term detrimental side effects_.”

“I won’t rest until he wakes up!” Scott all but snarled, his voice full of guilt and fear. “I don’t care what happens to me.”

“ _But I do,_ ” said SAM, surprising him. “ _I am sorry._ ”

“What do you mea–”

Scott’s eyelids suddenly became heavy, too heavy to keep his eyes open.

“Oh you bastard...”

“ _It is for your own good, Scott._ ”

Scott’s last thought before he was plunged into the dark oblivion was that if SAM could stop his heart without any problems, forcing him to fall asleep must be child’s play.


	4. Chapter 4

Scott opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times, trying to gain some clarity as he forced his sleep-addled brain to chase the remnants of sleep from under his eyelids. He felt groggy and stiff, as if he had spent far too much time in one position. With a soft groan, he shifted a little, gradually getting the feeling back in his numb limbs.  

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Scott’s eyes immediately snapped wide open. That voice... The memories rushed back to him like a rising wave, almost flooding his whole consciousness. Scott sat up so fast that he saw stars dancing before his eyes. His body wasn’t aching anymore, but felt oddly weak. Even lifting his hand to his forehead to rub it seemed like an almost impossible feat.

“Careful. You slept for two days. Your doctor was more worried about you than about me. But maybe she just doesn’t like me much.”

Two days? He slept for _two days_? Well, that explained the vertigo and the overall weakness. And the sucking in his stomach. He would have to have a long chat with SAM about it. But later, much later. Now that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but...

“Reyes!” Scott cried out and slid out of his bed. His legs shook dangerously, but holding the rim of the bunk for stability, he managed to move to his lover. Carefully, he perched at the edge of the bed, leaning over him, assessing the look on his face, searching for any signs of hurt or discomfort. “Are you okay? How are you feeling? Does it hurt?” A flurry of breathless questions fell from lips paled with worry.

“I’m fine, Scott,” he assured him with a smile. “I’m so doped up on drugs it’s a miracle I’m not seeing pink elephants doing routines all around me. Good stuff, maybe I need to let myself get shot more often,” he joked with his characteristic levity, as if nothing bad had happened and they were just chatting and flirting like usual.

But Scott wasn’t amused. With a pained noise in the back of his throat, he pressed his lips to Reyes’ forehead. To his temple, his eyelid, nose, cheek, corner of his lips before landing on his mouth and claiming his lips in a kiss. One soaked in emotions, encompassing the whole spectrum from heights of elation to depths of anguish.

When Scott pulled back, Reyes wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Scott...”

“I thought.... I thought you’d...” He couldn’t even say it. His shoulders shook and his eyes watered, treacherous tears spilling down his cheeks. He looked away, unable to see the contempt that would surely adorn Reyes’ face. It was pathetic for the Pathfinder to cry. Oh how stupid he must look right now, barely an adult with red, puffy eyes, youthful patchy stubble, sniffing like the child he apparently still was. “And it would be all my fault. I... was cocky, I didn’t pay enough attention. I should have seen that sniper coming and–”

The touch of a warm hand on his cheek stopped that onslaught of guilt. Reyes’ thumb brushed away the tears and he cupped his face with more gentleness than anyone would expect from him. 

“Scott, it wasn’t your fault,” he said adamantly, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “It just happened. A mistake, one that we can learn from and hopefully avoid similar ones in the future. We’ll be more careful from now on.”

“But I could have lost you.” Scott swallowed hard, vulnerable and ashamed.

“But you didn’t.” Clenching his teeth, Reyes managed to sit up. He gathered Scott in his arms, letting him hide his face in his neck. That was something Scott needed. The touch, the smell, the familiar warmth made him relax, close his eyes and just be there with the person he loved so much. Reyes, stroking his hair, spoke softly. “We are both okay. We lived to see another day. Isn’t that something in our line of work? What is the life expectancy for a Pathfinder who dives right into any danger he can find? What is the life expectancy for the shadowy king of Kadara who deals with thieves and smugglers every day, all day?” He kissed Scott’s cheek, a sign of affection and willingness to offer him as much comfort as needed. “Every moment I spend with you is precious because it could be our last. But not right now, not today. Today we are together.”

“You’re right.” Scott pulled back a little, offering him a smile that was almost shy. “We are alive and we are together. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

The warmth in Reyes’ eyes as he leaned in to kiss him was all the assurance necessary to show that he shared that sentiment.

“I’m still convinced that it will be your driving that finally does me in,” he whispered impishly against his lips.

Scott had no other alternative but to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story comes to an end, hope you liked it! All kudos and comments are much appreciated.


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